Page 53 of The Cursed and the Broken
TWENTY-ONE
“Kitarni!”
Strong arms encircled me as I slumped into Dante’s embrace, too tired, too dazed to recall how I’d found my way back to the cabin. A small part of me registered the concern in his tone, but I was too exhausted to care. My stomach was hollow, my heart stuck in my throat.
I’d tripped over several gnarled roots and stumbled into prickly bushes on the way back, scraping my hands until the skin was raw and angry. Leaves and twigs littered my hair, caught in the curled strands, and my face was caked with dirt and tears. I could only imagine what I looked like.
Hating myself for nestling into the warmth of his chest—for letting my guard down—I squeezed my eyes shut, shoving my despair deep down in my chest.
He couldn’t know. He’d only do something foolish to prevent it. I didn’t know what we shared. Whether it was simply lust, a mutual need for release and freedom, or perhaps the promise of something more. I couldn’t deny he sparked something inside me. Despite his insufferable nature, he made me feel alive. I enjoyed the easiness of his company, however irritating he could be, and he was a man who challenged me. I could see myself on his arm one day, if not happily in love, then as an equal to rule with at least.
But not now. Fate had other plans and allowing him to get close would only risk pain for us both.He doesn’t care about you anyway, a small voice reminded me.
“Where have you been?” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, his hand lingering on my cheek as he brushed a knuckle over my skin. My body tingled at the touch and, as I peered at his dark brown eyes, the gold flashing in the dark, my breath caught in my throat.
Fear filled those windows. And rage. Not from the fight itself, but fear for me and anger for the lives lost. But why? My throat bobbed as I pulled out of his arms. “I … I was dealing with more lidércek out of the clearing. There were others lurking in the shadows.”
Liar.
He nodded, running a hand through his dark locks. He hesitated for a moment, gripping my chin lightly as if needing to touch me, to confirm I was safe. “I thought we’d lost you.” His voice was too soft.
My heart cracked just a little at those words, at the concern lacing his tone. Where was the selfish, arrogant táltos I’d first met in the woods? But I said nothing, instead following the direction of his eyes as they swept over the clearing. The warmth left my body as I scanned the carnage. Blood congealed in sticky pools of black beneath a pile of twisted limbs, hooves and horns.
There must have been at least ten lidérc. The signs of corruption climbed their fingers and ankles, consuming their pupils and creating black voids. The sight chilled me to my core. Their beautiful faces were frozen in death, mouths open in silent screams or stretched back in sneers.
It was odd to see them all together. They usually hunted in solitude, tending to their many desires in privacy.
The woods were driving everyone mad. No, not the woods. The cultists.
My anger resurfaced, devouring the emptiness in my gut, the helplessness. Was this all there was now? Death and destruction for what remained of the road ahead? I balled my hands into fists as I looked upon the fallen. Fate said I had to die, but she also said I was the only one capable of defeating Sylvie.
I watched as the táltosok set fire to the bodies, as András tended to the injured with steady hands and a smile that had no business in this place. And my rage mounted, nipping at my bones, snarling at my heels, ready to devour me.
Without a word, I stormed for the cabin before anyone could see me break, slamming the door behind me.
Tears streamed down my face, hot and heavy. I slid down the wall of the lounge, the tears seemingly endless as the pain burned me from the inside out.
The door clicked shut behind Dante as he strode in after me. I felt his gaze searing my skin, the weight of his stare digging deep.
“What’s wrong?”
It sounded more like a command than a question. I set my jaw firmly, still too overwhelmed to talk and unsure what to say anyway. I couldn’t tell him the truth. A lie was hardly better.
Kneeling, he reached out a hand, but I recoiled, curling my nails in the wooden floor. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Kitarni, I’m here for you. You can tell me anything.”
“Leave me alone,” I seethed, pulling my knees to my chest and burying my face in the cradle of my arms.
He paused, but still he stayed by my side. “I know this isn’t easy, but we’ll get through this. We’ll be in Mistvellen tomorrow, where you’ll be safe.”
“Safe?” I lifted my head to glare at him, my eyes blazing with cold fire. I laughed bitterly. “No one is safe anymore, Dante. People are dying, innocents are being corrupted by this godsforsaken place. Two of your men are dead!”
Dante stiffened as he rose. “And you thinkI’mto blame?” His eyes flashed dangerously, his voice dipping.
Standing, I stalked closer, my blood boiling. “They died fighting for you while you were safe and sound, tucked away in bed. You were too late.”
I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth. It wasn’t fair to blame him, to use him as a punching bag. No, this was Fate’s fault. I’d felt her call before the fighting had even started and Death had said she’d have a distraction. Was this all her doing?
